


he will be your downfall

by caelesti



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Character(s) of Color, Introspection, M/M, Oneshot, POC Potter, POV Second Person, Past Infidelity, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-23
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-27 19:18:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5060812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caelesti/pseuds/caelesti
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's temptation and there's greed - and when he becomes a part of your life, you forget which one is which.</p>
            </blockquote>





	he will be your downfall

**Author's Note:**

> Just a lil thing I had sitting around my drafts. Nothing too brilliant, more of an experiment I reckon. Please enjoy and share your thoughts maybe?

Downfall (noun)

1\. descent to a lower position or standing; overthrow; ruin.

* * *

 

 There’s temptation, and there’s greed.

 And they are, in your experience, completely unrelated things, even if they might not seem at first.

 Your mother feels temptation. She’s a lovely lady, she is! A great mother, if a little cold, a beauty, if a little distant, a great person – if a little too risky, if a little too vengeful, if a little too petty, if a little too tempting.

 No one would say it and she would never mention it – it was improper, it was frowned upon and although it would never be a secret, it ought to be discrete: sleeping around wasn’t seen with good eyes by high class aristocracy, especially by a lady, especially by a mother, of noble breed and marriage, with daring preferences and teasing manners.

  You remember it since early on, the odd, misplaced tie left on the couch in the nights your father didn’t come home, the subtle smell of a stranger’s cologne, the timely absence at a party, the teasing glances; you were used to it, it was never a secret, it was always a reality and you grew around it. You knew it wasn’t _right_ ; but really, since when were you raised to do what was _right?_

Your father feels greed. He’s an ambitious man, has always been, raised like so by his father, and his father’s father before that. His name, the one he passed onto you, is one that carries history and standing, and he always made sure you knew that.

 He never mentioned what it was like to feel such greed, to feel such want, such drive to have more and more and more even when you already had far more than you would ever need. He never mentioned how it could be so powerful, so time consuming, so utterly corrupting to feel in such a way, how it would eat at you, isolate you; father never had any friends, never spent time with anyone that wouldn’t benefit him in some way, and in truth you never knew if that even bothered him.

 And you think it doesn’t really matter, because the lack of true human connections never seemed to slow him down much, and you learned to adopt that facet into yourself, sort of like a shell, sort of like a wall, that allowed you to act and interact exactly the way you were supposed to, the way you were bred and raised to.

 Because all in all, you always knew your destiny could not be bargained, would not waver. It was expected for you to continue your family’s legacy, by working and managing it yourself, and by producing a male heir that would assure that the name survived another generation.

 And you were fine with it.

 You never questioned, like you never questioned your ideals, your morals, your actions. You were sure of what you thought and you were sure of what you knew, and it didn’t really matter if you were right; you had _money_ to make it right.

 At least, until he came along.

-

There’s temptation, and there’s greed.

 And you are starting to question if maybe they have something in common with each other after all, something that your mother’s lustful nature and your father’s driven ambition forgot to show you.

 And you know it’s those _eyes_ that make you doubt your own certainty. You know like you’ve known from the moment you laid eyes on him that you hated him and everything he stood for, that you would live simply to make _his_ life a living hell.

 And the daring grin he gives you shows he thinks the exact same way.

 You don’t meet often, you don’t talk often. You’re bright and outspoken, charming and outgoing and he’s quiet, dark, observing; he doesn’t make himself noticed, he shies away into the shadow where he can observe at will and feel at ease.

 You find yourself wondering why.

 You’ve never had any need for subtleties; you’ve always had what you wanted, handed to you on a silver plate; there had never been any need for slyness and stealth, your money opened paths and your name carried promises. You weren’t stupid, but you never had any need for your smarts, the world existed to serve you.

 Except that _he_ didn’t.

  _He_ with his green eyes and ripped jeans, with his lopsided grin and his quietly defiant stance. He looks just like any other teen, reasonably handsome and obviously conflicting, with fiery anger bubbling under the surface and a blinding thirst to prove himself, and you are not sure at first what drives you to him, to him who is not outstanding in any way, who seems like any other you have seen, who is so beneath you that it is actually impossible to compare.

 But there is something mysterious about him, an aura of darkness, that speaks of horrors that had gone and some more to come, a certain sort of magnetism that clearly states he’s bad news, that he will bring nothing but trouble. You know it and _maybe_ that’s what tempts you the most. You’ve never had the chance to properly _live_ , to take risks, to make your own mistakes.

 You’ve never had the chance to _fall._

 But that’s okay. You know that even if you do, you have your safety net.

_-_

 There’s temptation and there’s greed.

 And you are struggling to find the difference between them.

 You are struggling like you struggle every night, in the rundown apartment in the shady part of the city. A struggle for dominance, a struggle for release, a struggle of _need_ and a struggle of _want_.

 You struggle when he pushes you against the wall, dark hands undoing your shirt and feeling your skin and messing up your hair because you _want_ him. You struggle when you push him onto the bed, pulling his hair and biting every piece of hot, flushed skin you can find, making sure you leave a mark, making sure you get a reaction because you _want_ to feel that intoxicating power. You stop struggling when he sucks that sweet spot under your left ear and start up again because you _need_ more of it, more of _him_.

 It’s need that quiets you in the dark boom closets when you’re skipping classes and it’s need that makes you scream when the sun sets and you are both off in your own little worlds, where you’re not an heir in the making and he’s not the troubled kid living off scraps.

 It’s a perfect world, where you’re not expected to be anything but who you truly are, and you can trust that you won’t be faulted for that. You love that freedom and that ease that he brings into your life, more than you’ve ever wanted fortune, more than you ever needed air. It is what you live for at this point, your own drug of choice, and your most favourite currency.

-

 There’s temptation and there’s greed.

 And you forget which one is which.

 He’s temptation and everything is him; the air you breathe, the thoughts running through your head, the phantom touch on your waist, the loud music you blast on your earphones, he is _there_ , omnipresent and all-consuming; you want him past the point of reasoning, you need him and his daring grin and his understanding comfort, you _need_ him and every single piece of stability and warmth and security that he brings into your life.

 He’s greed and he is _everything_. He’s every song and poem ever written, he’s every black cat wandering around at night and every midnight mist, he’s every star that stops shining and every desperate chuckle thrown into the air, gasped and whispered. He is young and he is smart and as you get to know him, bit by bit, that ruthless, ambitious nature comes through, his thirst to prove himself, the stone cold determination that drives him every day, every waking hour and you are amazed and you are worried because you know you don’t stand a chance if he chooses to take advantage of you.

 He’s got you line, hook and sinker –

– And you’re not even sure you mind.

-

There’s temptation and there’s greed.

And suddenly you’re faced with the realization that none really matter.

Temptation drove your mother to ruin and greed lead your father to self-destruction. You know what you’re made of, you know you can’t handle either.

 But he can.

 He’s made of sturdier stuff than you. You both know that this will not last, no matter how _right_ it feels, how perfect your bodies feel against each other, how natural it seems to fall asleep by each other’s side and wake up in each other’s arms. You are both damaged kids running away from broken homes, finding solace in the only person that is as fucked up as you are, the only person who can understand the mask and the desperation and the pure rotten need to lose control, if only for a little while.

 You’re both damaged kids, but you’re too different. He’s a downtown mutt, orphan and outcast, misfit artist with a silver tongue, and you’re an heir of noble breed, a proper twenty first century prince with your future laid out in front of you.

 You’re from two too different worlds.

 Unless one of you gives in.

 And you know it will be you.

 He is too strong. Too stubborn. Too set. Too driven. Too independent to follow you.

 You’re too dependent, too desperate, too pampered and insecure to let him go.

 One of you will give in.

 In time.

 And you both know the safety net you’ve threaded upon all your life is hanging dangerously over an emerald fire, ready to burn and bring you down with it.

__It's inevitable. It runs in your veins and was written upon your birth.__

 He is temptation. And he is greed.

_He will be your downfall._

_And you're fine with it._


End file.
